Confessions
by blurrybrains and Freddy
Summary: Jareth’s out to confess his everlasting love to Sarah, but things don’t go as planned. And why did I come up with such an annoying roommate for Sarah? Started as crack but might become serious later on. Yeah, sure. JS.


PROLOGUE

A/N:I don't own anything. Not even any chocolate, though I could really use that now… Written completely without Freddy, so it might even be readable.

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PROLOGUE

It was a warm summer morning, and the sun was shining happily from a flawless blue sky. Tree branches were waving lazily on just the slightest breath of wind, carrying sounds and frangrances that could only ever belong in dreams and fairytales out into the grey world of New York City. Oh yes, it was a magical morning. Planned carefully for days and months, every leaf had been reconsidered in its placement and even the cold skyscrapers seemed to be embraced by a sudden touch of brightness. It had been hard, but soon it'd be worth it. Because today, on what's supposed to be the fluffiest day in fanfiction history, fate would take its final shot at a happy ending and succeed.

Hopefully.

No, it had to. It couldn't go wrong this time. Never before had he put so much effort in things, never before had it been so clear that this was destiny. They all knew it. Even the most pathetic author and her evil chainsaw-ish friend, fighting over a laptop in a land Far, Far Away could feel the bright pink heartbeat of love in the air. Yes.

He rose from his throne in a most gracious, dramatic fashion – it almost, _almost_ looked like he was going to sing some cliché lovesong - and shot a last glance at his reflection in the mirror (which was obviously put there just for this special occasion), then to change into his owl form and leap out of the window. Destiny. Hell yeah. Today was the day that he, Jareth, King of the Goblins and the Underground, would confess his undying love to the most beautiful woman of the Aboveground.

Sarah Evangeline Williams.

CHAPTER 1 – What the hell… ?

On this same, unfortunate moment in a small appartment in New York City a young woman named Roxy was fast asleep. Covered with five ridiculously colored blankets, head buried in a mountain of pillows and earplugs in her ears there was only one sound that could possibly wake her from her sugar sweet dreams.

Hehe.

Now you should know that Roxy isn't the best of students, not because she doesn't pay attention (actually, she doesn't, but it'd barely make any difference if she would) and neither because she's just plain dumb, but because she doen't sleep. Ever. Yes, for some mysterious reason Roxy hasn't been able to get a proper night of sleep since she was fourteen. So she does with bits and pieces, and I probably needn't explain that this Sunday morning sleep-in is one of those bits. And by any means, no matter how sorry I do feel for her (because I'm not all that evil and I hate waking up in the morning, too) there will be someone around to cause a certain sound that might very well ring through earplugs, pillow mountains and ridiculously colored blankets. She'd better enjoy her last seconds of rest.

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Roxy's eyes shot open. She had been awoken by a nervebreaking, ringing sound and for a moment she had no idea what it could be. And then she remembered her five blankets, pillow mountain and earplugs and her eyes opened wide in sheer terror.

No. Way. There was only one sound that could possibly wake her in this situation, and that was the doorbell. But on a Sunday morning? That was about impossible.

Unless…

If her sleep-deprived brain hadn't been this sleep-deprived (because she isn't just plain dumb, as I explained before) Roxy probably would have figured that the person ringing her doorbell at this very moment might not even know she was asleep, and have no evil intentions towards her whatsoever. But in this case, the only clear thought that came into her head was that there was some evil plotting going on to keep her from sleeping. And that was not very nice.

So Roxy, who doesn't only suffer from severe insomnia but also from hysteria and attacks of red hot rage, gritted her teeth and rose from the bed. She was wearing her favorite nightshirt, the one with the pink and lime green ducks (and also the perfect outfit for cold-blooded murder) and huge grey socks that seemed to be having a hard time sticking to her feet.

With one determined glance she scanned the room on possible murder weapons. Gun, chainsaw, butcher's knife, axe, scissors, rubber duck, bra- Perfect. Thus, armed with a murderous pink lace bra she made her way for the front door. This person had to die. Definitely. She put her hand on the knob and slammed open the door. But before she even had the chance to attack, Roxy collapsed right into the arms of our mysterious doorbell-ringing stranger. The poor bra slipped from her hand and was already forgotten once it his the ground.

Now Jareth, who was used to people fainting when seeing him in all his glamour for the first time, catched the woman (who was not Sarah, pity her) easily enough. And noticed, to his suprise, that she was actually asleep. Wonderful. So Jareth furrowed one of his interesting shaped brows and carried the woman (who was still not Sarah, how annoying) into the appartment and dropped her ruthlessly on the sofa. He himself sat down in a rather lumpy chair next to it, and he would have tried to wake her from her sudden rush of sleep if it weren't for the fact he was somewhat mad at her for not being Sarah.

…Sarah.

If this was really Sarah's appartment (and it had to be, since he had sent his most reliable goblins to figure it out), this must be her roommate. Hm. That could be bothersome. Jareth didn't feel at all like having some hysterical college girl around when he would be confessing his everlasting love to Sarah. He needed to het rid of her. Sarah would probably forgive him once she'd hear his offer, anyway.

He could throw her in the bog. Or turn her into a goblin. He could even feed her to the fireys or just give her a plain heart attack, which wasn't that much fun but very easy, though.

_You could also kill her with your own hands, which __**is **__a lot of fun _a more bloodthirsty part of his mind told him.

Jareth complimented himself for being able to come up with something smart and complicated like that and had just picked up the hideous pink murder bra the girl-who-wasn't-sarah-how-bothersome had dropped on the doormat when she collapsed, when he heard a sound coming from the direction of the sofa.

Jareth turned around to see the girl-who-wasn't-sarah-how-bothersome standing behind him, pale, breathing heavily and swinging back and forth on her legs.

"Drop. That. Right. Now."

Jareth didn't even blink.

"Right. Now."

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A/N:I'm not really happy with this ending, but whatever… I already rewrote this thing about eight times last week (Roxy started out male 0.o) and maybe I should just leave it now. It's also still un-BETA-ed, because I'm lazy like that…

And I still don't have any chocolate. Damn.


End file.
